Yooper Troopers, Pt. I

Hitting the road in the morning. . .

Welcome back, Internet.

So our first official vacation of the 2021 Summer was once again planned with our usual Michigan travel companions, Rita and Smitty.  We had discussed possible trip destinations with them when they came up to our place for New Year's Eve, and settled on the remote, western region of the Upper Peninsula.  We've canvassed a lot of the state with them in previous years - the Traverse City area (2016), straits of Mackinaw (2017), the eastern Upper Peninsula (2018), the southwestern region of the state (2020) - so we wanted to spend a week hitting up everything there was to do in this large and largely uninhabited swath of the U.P.  Check that shit right off the Michigan To-Do list.

This time around we planned an eight-day trip, and opted to stay at a series of houses via Airbnb, instead of camping.  Considering the amount of time we had to spend in a car (it takes forever to get anywhere in the U.P.), we didn't want to have to bother lugging around a shit-ton of camping gear.  Not to mention the idea of having to set up camp, after spending six or seven hours in a van, sounds like pure hell in my book.  Anyway, this Airbnb thing worked out ridiculously well, and as much as we all like camping we're planning on sticking to this approach in the coming years.

So here you go, folks - the first installment of the Houghs' 2021 Upper Peninsula adventure.  

Behold. . . 

Samson has no idea he's only along for twenty minutes of this trip.

We once again booked the dogs a stay at Shelby's K-9 Bed and Breakfast, just north of Coleman.  It's a solid dog-sitting place and they only charge us like $20 for both dogs - you can't beat that price anywhere in Midland, that's for damn sure.

Dropping off the dogs in the front.  The lady who runs the place offered to keep them in the front of the building instead of in the back, because the back gets so loud with all the other dogs barking that she created a separate area with three pens for more skittish dogs.  Kris was worried about Watson, who gets super depressed in situations like this, so the lady offered us one of the quieter kennels free of charge. 

Of course, after one day in the front they had to be moved into the larger, louder back area with all the other dogs because Samson wouldn't stop barking at the dogs in the adjoining kennel and it was freaking out a rescue dog on the other side.  The lady said they were fine in the back, though. . . and even if they weren't, who f***ing cares.  They're dogs - as long as they're alive when we pick them up I'm fine with whatever.

The most boring stretch of our trip was the chunk of I-75 between god-awful Harrison and the Bridge - you're still in the Lower Peninsula, there's nothing cool to check out on the drive, etc.  Time just drags on this first leg of the trip.

Hitting up a rest stop shortly before the Bridge, mostly because we were convinced it was going to be bumper-to-bumper with Fourth of July traffic heading north for the weekend, and we didn't want to have to deal with kids complaining they had to pee while sitting at a standstill for hours, 250 feet above the water.

Pleasantly surprised to see that the Bridge traffic was next to nothing as we approached the Gauntlet of Death.

I don't handle the bridge well at all.  Kris likes to take pictures of me having freak-outs as we draw close to it.  Because she's a caring spouse.

Leaving civilization behind for a week. . .

We had to tell Abby to keep her seat belt on as we crossed the bridge, as she had taken it off as we crossed because "if we fall I'll be able to escape the car easier."  Which, you know, was exactly what I wanted to hear as we made our way across.

As scary as the grates are, I make Kris drive in the left lane because I just can't handle the right lane - being able to look out the window straight down for hundreds and hundreds of feet (with only a measly 2-foot guardrail 'protecting' you) freaks me the hell out.

Everyone enjoys this bridge crossing but me.

Obligatory bridge picture.

Lake Huron

Skipping ahead a couple hours here (because, honestly, there's not a lot to see between St. Ignace and Marquette.)  We had decided to drive up a day early and stay a night in Marquette, thereby cutting down our commute five hours and allowing us to pick up groceries a couple hours in advance instead of having to lug them up from Midland. Sooo glad we did this.

While looking for places to stay in Marquette, I suggested the Cedar Motor Inn (having stayed there before on Brocation '20 with some of the other dads.)

This place is old, but clean.  And relatively cheap, too.

Stretching legs after five-and-a-half hours in the van.

Unfortunately, we didn't know that when we booked our room we were being put in what they call the Imperial Wing of the hotel.  Cedar Motor Inn had purchased the neighboring motel, called the Imperial, a year or two before, and had renovated all the rooms.  It was only for a night, so we didn't care too much, but it still sucked because we had to walk next door to hit up the pool, continental breakfast, etc.

This old motel was like a time capsule from the 1950s or '60s.

The building itself was old, but the rooms were recently updated, so at least they were clean.

Still, pretty outdated.

Like, seriously.  Just look at this f***ing thermostat.

Looking up dinner options in Marquette, having moved all of our crap from the van into the room.

State-of-the-art air conditioning unit.

We got to utilize this vintage stairwell whenever we wanted to leave our room. . . 

This thing smelled like Lodge.

Needless to say, we didn't use the ice machine at all.

Hitting the road to head back into downtown Marquette for dinner.

We attempted to eat at a place called Iron Bay, but there was an hour and forty-minute long wait - Fourth of July crowds had packed into every, conceivable restaurant in town.  The menu looked pretty awesome, so we made a note to hit the place back up when we revisit Marquette later in the week.

Right across the street from our hotel sits a Buffalo Wild Wings - not the greatest food in the world, obviously, but better than nothing.  We were seated immediately, and they had beer, so we said 'screw it.'  If you'll recall, we hit up this exact same joint on Brocation, too.

Having eaten our meal, we headed back to the hotel so the girls could swim (they cared more about that than eating, anyway.)

While in the pool, I was adamant about having my roommates recreate a classic moment from Brocation - when a stranger we referred to as Big Red joined us six dudes in the hot tub and began to wax philosophically about the existence of Big Foot.  You can't make this shit up, folks.

This time around, a couple college girls joined us in the hot tub, and Kris and them instantly began chatting (the college girls were definitely a few Claws into their evening.)  At one point, they offered to play volleyball in the pool with the girls.  Our kids were having a blast, because it's fun splashing about with a ball in a pool with older 'cool' girls, and those girls were obviously having fun because they were drinking seltzers like it was their job.

. . . and just so we're clear, here - Kris took these pictures, after asking them if it was cool.  I definitely did not feel comfortable taking pictures of college girls in skimpy bikinis.  I'm not that much of a creepy old man.  Yet.

Walking back to our motel after a couple of hours hanging out in the pool and hot tub, I snapped a quick pick of the inside of the old Imperial swimming pool.  Clearly not in use for the time being.

The Imperial Wing of the Cedar Motor Inn.

Watching a little TV at the end of the evening.

Winding down the kids (or attempting to, at any rate.)  The vacation officially starts tomorrow, folks - stay tuned.

- Brian